Twelve Angry Librarians

EIGHT

I felt a sudden, brief chill at Randi’s jesting words. Surely no one would actually murder Gavin Fong. I didn’t want to go through all that again.

Marisue snorted with laughter. “The police would never be able to solve it. Too many suspects.”

Randi nodded. “Yeah, way too many. Every single person who ever went to school with him or worked with him.”

“I grant you he’s a colossal annoyance most of the time,” I said. “But what has he done that would make someone see killing him as a solution?”

Marisue shot Randi a pointed glance. “Tell you what, you fill Charlie in while I go get us some wine. If I’m going to talk about Gavin, I need fortification.” With that, she turned to make her way through the crowd toward one of the bar stations.

Randi eyed the nearly empty glass of diet soda I picked up. “Sure you don’t want something stronger yourself?”

“No, I’m fine with this. I have to drive home. I’m not staying in the hotel, and I presume you two are.” I downed the rest of my drink and set the glass down on the table.

“We are,” Randi said. “We’re sharing a room the way we always do. I have to say, this is a lovely old hotel. Dripping with Southern charm that makes this California girl feel like she ought to be seeing Scarlett O’Hara come sweeping around the corner just any little ole minute now.” She grinned when I winced at her attempt at a Southern accent on those last few words.

“Stick to being a California girl, all right?” I smiled at her. “Now, what all are you supposed to be telling me about Gavin?”

Randi scowled. “Did you know that both Marisue and I coauthored journal articles with him?” After I nodded, she continued. “I say coauthored, but Marisue and I each did most of the research for, and the writing of, our respective articles. Since we worked with Gavin at the time we did the research—in separate institutions, that is, me first in Colorado and then her later in Kansas—he decided that his name ought to go on the articles, too. Because we had to submit them to him before we could send them to the journal, and he edited them to improve them. Substantially enough that his name ought to be included.”

The bitterness in her tone didn’t surprise me. Gavin had obviously hijacked their work in each instance in order to give himself a free publication credit. I wondered if all the other articles and chapters on his résumé came about the same way.

“Why would you have to submit them to him first?” I asked.

“Said it was his responsibility as the head of the department to make sure anything published by one of his staff members was quality work.” Randi snorted. “Pure invention on his part. There was no such regulation in place. He simply wanted to horn in on someone else’s work and get a free credit out of it.”

“Didn’t you try to protest?” I couldn’t believe Randi hadn’t raised a stink about it. She was not the suffer-in-silence type.

“I tried to,” Randi said. “Our director at the time, however, thought the sun rose and set out of Gavin’s derriere, unfortunately for the rest of us. She refused to believe me. When she left abruptly after Gavin was there about sixteen months, a new director came in, and she didn’t like him at all.”

“What about Marisue? I’m sure you told her about this and warned her before she had to work with him.”

“I did,” Randi said. “But guess where my former director ended up? She couldn’t wait to get Gavin there, and poor Marisue found herself in the same situation as me.”

Marisue reappeared with two glasses of wine, one red, one white. She handed the red to Randi.

“Got the picture?” Marisue asked after a sip of wine.

I nodded. “Can’t say I’m surprised by Gavin’s behavior. I remember back in grad school, when we were assigned group projects, anyone who got stuck with him in the group complained that he did very little.”

“Enough to get by, that was all,” Marisue said. “He was in a group with me for one project. He did the absolute minimum, but he was the first to criticize anyone else’s work.”

“What I can’t figure out,” Randi said, “is why he thinks the world owes him a living? Why does he get a free ride while the rest of us have to work?”

“I can’t answer that,” Marisue replied. “He’s managed to get away with it for years, though.”

“He’s applied for my job,” I said. “I’m acting as interim while they search for a director. I don’t understand how he’s gotten to the level of library director with his last two or three jobs.”

Randi shrugged. “You got me. I guess because he looks good on paper, and he probably interviews well.” She emptied her wineglass.

“I think I know whom he uses as his references,” Marisue said. “They’re former supervisors of his who were either too naive or too stupid to see through him. He’s like a virus. He creeps in and takes over before you know just how awful he is.”

“Are you part of the search committee for your job?” Randi asked.

I nodded. “Yes, and I’ve already told the college president I can’t recommend Gavin for the position. For one thing, he changes jobs about every three years, and has done so for a long time.”

Randi cackled with laughter. “Not by his choice, I’ll bet. Two years in, I’m sure a sensible person has seen through him and urges him to move along, and that person will say anything to a prospective employer to get rid of him.”

“Exactly.” Marisue glanced at her watch. “Charlie, sorry for us to run off right now, but we promised to meet a friend from South Carolina for dinner tonight.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’m ready to get out of here anyway. We’re still on for dinner tomorrow evening, right?”

“We sure are.” Randi gave me a quick hug. “We’ll talk about things a lot more pleasant than that parasite.”

After a hug with Marisue, I watched them make their way through the crowd. I had heard enough from them to be even firmer in my resolve that Gavin Fong wouldn’t get within an inch of the job at Athena. I could only hope the rest of the search committee would agree with me.

If the meeting with Forrest Wyatt tomorrow morning didn’t get me in trouble, that is.

Bothered by that thought, I began to ease my way toward the ballroom doors. I’d had enough of crowds and loud conversations.

I paused in the ballroom foyer to get my bearings. Where had I parked? In the lot behind the hotel, I remembered, and I headed for the rear exit. After a few feet, I stopped when an idea struck me. I was already on the town square, and Helen Louise’s place wasn’t that far around the square. Though I had nibbled enough cocktail party–type food to keep me from going hungry, I could make room for a piece of one of her elegant and delicious desserts. Plus, if the place weren’t too crowded, I could snatch a few minutes’ conversation with the woman I loved.

Accordingly, I turned and headed toward the front of the hotel. Out on the sidewalk, the evening was cool, the air pleasant after the close confines of a crowded ballroom. The walk to Helen Louise’s bistro took only about three minutes. I paused at the front window and peered in. The place looked about three-quarters full. Busy, then, but not swamped. I opened the door and went inside.

Helen Louise stood at the cash register, chatting to a young couple as she checked them out. When she finished, she glanced my way. Her lovely face made my heart turn over, especially when she smiled the way she was smiling now. I made my way through the tables to the register, and she came around the counter to greet me with a brief hug and a warm kiss.

“This is a sweet surprise.” She took my arm and led me to the table in the corner near the register that she kept reserved for special guests. She seated herself to my left after a swift glance around to see whether she was needed. Evidently satisfied that she could take a few minutes away from work, she turned back to me with that beautiful smile.

“I was done with the conference reception at the hotel.” I reached for her right hand with my left and clasped it. “I couldn’t be this nearby and not come to see you.”

“And perhaps have a little dessert?” Helen Louise laughed and winked at me.

I grinned. “Well, the thought did cross my mind, I must admit.”

“I think there might be a slice of the chocolate tart I made this afternoon with your name on it.” Helen Louise released my hand and stood. “How about coffee to go with it? Fresh decaf?”

“Sounds wonderful,” I said. “No wonder I love you. You spoil me terribly.”

She bent to give me a quick kiss before heading to the kitchen. She soon returned bearing a tray with two servings of the tart, as well as two cups of coffee. She served the tart and coffee, then placed the tray on the other side of the table as she seated herself.

“Tell me what you think,” she said and picked up her fork.

I had a bite of the tart, and I think I gave a little moan, it was so tasty. After I finished with that bite, I said, “Heavenly, as always. No one makes any kind of chocolate dessert the way you do.”

“Thank you, love.” Helen Louise ate a bite herself, chewed, and then nodded. “Yes, I think this is pretty good. I’ve done better, but this is good.”

“You’re far too modest, sweetheart. I don’t see how it could be any better,” I told her before I forked another, larger bite into my mouth.

We soon finished our servings of the tart, and then we chatted over the coffee. I told her about the incident earlier in the afternoon with Gavin Fong.

“You couldn’t help yourself, love. I know that, but I hope it’s not going to cause you trouble. This guy sounds like the type who would sue over the tiniest thing.” Helen Louise, though she hadn’t practiced law in well over a decade, never lost the lawyer’s way of looking at things. “Have you talked to Sean about any of this yet?”

“No, not yet.” I stared into my nearly empty coffee cup. “I haven’t told you the worst. I had a call from Forrest Wyatt’s office earlier, asking me to meet with him first thing in the morning.”

“I think you’d better talk to Sean about this before you go to that meeting, just in case.” Helen Louise frowned. “I may be making more of this than I should, but it’s best to be prepared.”

“You’re right,” I said. Suddenly that chocolate tart felt sour in my stomach. I drained my coffee. I glanced toward the window, where a face outside caught my attention. Gavin Fong was staring at me, but the moment he saw that I was looking back, he took off down the street.

I thought about mentioning it to Helen Louise, but decided after quick reflection there was no point. It was nothing more than coincidence.

“I’ll call Sean when I get home,” I said. “Though I have to tell you I don’t look forward to confessing this to him.”

“I know he’s inclined to fuss a bit where you’re concerned.” Helen Louise smiled. “But he’s your son, and he cares about you.”

“I know. I just don’t want to feel like the teenager getting fussed at by his father, and that’s the way I feel sometimes.” I grinned. “I have to say, though, that I like the idea I can still surprise him, shake up his notions about what his old man gets up to.”

Helen Louise laughed. She glanced toward the door as the bell on it chimed. Seven people came in, and she turned back to me with a wry smile as she stood.

“Looks like my break is over, love. We’re shorthanded tonight because one of my help fell today and sprained his ankle.”

“No need to apologize. I know how busy you are. Call me later when you get home.” I pushed my chair back and stood. We exchanged one last quick kiss before I made my way to the door.

I headed back toward the hotel, my emotions a mix of joy and annoyance. Joy from having spent even a few short minutes with Helen Louise, and annoyance at myself for letting my temper get the better of me with Gavin this afternoon. Perhaps I hadn’t taken the situation seriously enough. I knew Sean would probably read me the riot act. He worried enough in the past over my exploits, as he called them, in solving murders.

Instead of going through the hotel to get to the parking lot at the back, I cut down an alley that ran alongside the building. The lighting wasn’t good, but I could see just enough to make my way through.

As I neared the corner of the building at the back, I paused. Had I heard someone behind me? Were those footfalls?

I turned to look, then the world went dark.